Violet
by DandelionFunky
Summary: At first, he thought it was merely a coincidence. Fakiru 2015, prompt: Violet.


**Fakiru week day 1**

 **Septempber 24, 2015**

 **Prompt: Violet**

* * *

 **Violet**

by DandelionFunky

He wasn't exactly sure how long he had been sitting at the writing desk in his bedroom, staring blankly at the papers strewn across its wooden surface. His brain was at a standstill, his heart rapidly pounding in his ears. He leans abruptly onto his left elbow, his eyes misting. He clutches the quill aggressively in his right hand, a tuft of his hair in his left. How could he have made such a mistake?

 _At first he thought the empty seat by Pike and Lilie was merely a coincidence. It had to be._

 _It couldn't be anything else, could it?_

Spring turned to Summer.

 _Lilie and Pike placed their extra books or bags in the seat, as if to prevent it from being stolen by the wrong behind._

 _Could it?_

Frustration causes Fakir to rip up his papers and throw them into the lake, knocking Ahiru off his lap with a surprised quack. Ahiru quacks up at him as she acclimates herself on the surface of lake, her eyes soft with concern.

"Sorry," He says as he scoops her into his arms, ignoring the chill of water dripping from her feathers.

He lightly strokes his thumb against one of her wings. Someday these wings will be hands again. He swears it. She leans against him. She knows it.

Summer to Autumn.

 _Ebine stopped serving ducks, then pheasants, then any sort of bird. When asked, she said she couldn't explain, but it felt like hurting a friend._

 _ **Could it?**_

Quacking soft equivalents to a human's tongue clicks, Ahiru flies up onto Fakir's desk with a blanket between her beak. She drapes it carefully onto his inert form, but unfortunately it covers his left half, at best.

She flaps to the right of the desk, grasping the blanket between her beak.

Now it's on his right side.

She flaps to the left.

Now it's on his head.

She flaps to the-

Fakir awakes with a snort. Sitting upright, Fakir blinks sleepily as the blanket slides slowly off his face and onto the floor.

He chuckles softly, stroking Ahiru's head despite her embarrassed quacks.

Then picks up the quill, despite her protests.

Autum to Winter.

 _Across the counter of the newest bakery, stood a couple. Nothing was wicked about them, but yet they had his heart pounding and his eyes widening._

 _Ahiru's smile sparkled on this mans lips._

 _Her strawberry blond hair framed the edges of his balding head._

 _Her small frame adorned the woman._

 _And her eyes and nose embellished the woman's face._

 _It_ _ **could. It definitely could.**_

It's been three weeks since Fakir has looked Ahiru in the eye. When he's not writing or sleeping, he's out somewhere, hunting for something that only he comprehends its necessity.

It has taken both Charon and Ahiru's constant insistance in order to keep Fakir fed. Without it, days pass before he would remembers to eat, if he remembers at all.

" _What…what brings you here to Kinkan?" Fakir managed to form around his drying mouth._

 _The baker man smiled Ahiru's smile,"We lived outside of Kinkan for many years, and now seemed like the perfect time."_

 _The woman handed Fakir the bread he ordered. "I see you have the Kinkan uniform on. I always wanted to have a little girl go there. A little ballerina."_

 _The couple held eye contact for a moment, their eyes dimming briefly despite their smiles,"We could never have one, though." she said, before their eyes brightened to their original luster._

 _Fakir could barely thank them, his mind stunned into emptiness as he exited the bakery. He numbly wonders how much of that shine in their eyes is fake, and how much of that is his fault._

* * *

Snow swirls through the alcove as Fakir stumbles through the front door, pitching forward slightly as he enters. He slams the door shut against the wind, the basket in the crook of his arm tipping and spilling some of its contents. He swiftly retrieves the spoils from the floor, cradling it as if it was precious and fragile.

Miraculously, he had found Violets. Fresh, beautiful, blooming _violets._ In _winter._

And he was looking at her again. If she had a lips, she'd be grinning ear to ear.

* * *

On the eve of Spring, Fakir fidgets at his desk. His hands idly stroke Ahiru's feathers, his face red.

"A-ahiru…?"

She lifts her head toward him.

"You know that I l-love y-you, right?"

She nods.

"D-do y- _you_?"

She nods, somehow blushing while deadpan. _You hadn't figured it out by now?_ Was vividly evident in her eyes.

"You l-love me?" His voice cracks, pitching higher at the end.

Ahiru nods again.

"No matter what?"

Where had _this_ insecurity arisen from? She stares at him steadily, with concern and conviction as she nods, in an effort to assure him efficiently.

He smiles, so brilliantly and widely that it shockes Ahiru, almost more than the kiss on her cheek that follows. With crimson cheeks, he plucks up some papers off the desk and rushes outside, leaving her behind on the desk.

Floored, she stares blankly out the window with warm cheeks, watching him begin to trot off somewhere with a box and his latest story in his hands.

Wait.

He left her behind. Again. Jerk.

Before she could get truly angry, suddenly the window in front of her opens.

"Sorry, I got too accustomed to going out alone." Fakir smirks and scoops her into his arms, her head near his breast.

* * *

At the lake, the couple from the bakery were out by the dock, sitting over a yellow gingham blanket and setting out extra breads and pastries from the shop, as well as a duck themed ceramic tea set. To the right of the tablecloth was a kettle warming over a fire.

The woman spots Fakir from afar and waves to him enthusiastically, "You're early! The kettle's not even hot yet!"

Fakir jogs over, taking great care not to jostle Ahiru.

Fakir's eyes twinkle. "That's convenient, because I wanted to introduce you to a little someone."

Ahiru locks eyes with the couple. The air is thick with something wonderous and magical as the woman gently reaches forward and takes hold of Ahiru, caressing her like she was an infant. She tenderly strokes Ahiru's head as it rests in the crook of her shoulder, as if guided by the instinct of a forgotten memory. A memory of a mother's love.

"I love ducks. When my husband and I were trying for a child, we agreed we would call a girl Ahiru. A little eccentric I know, but I _know_ it would have fit."

Ahiru stiffens. Her eyes dart to Fakir's, her eyes filled with uncertainty and fright. But she see his eyes, beaming with warmth, and she is assured.

The woman smiles wistfully, "I don't know why, but I can feel it in my bones."

Ahiru found herself lost in the feeling of a mother's love.

Why did she never miss this before? Why did she have to forget this? Why did Drosselmeyer take this away from her?

Fakir and the man carry small conversation in hushed voices, voices that were prompted to a quietness from the magnitude of the scene next to them.

The woman makes a soft sigh as she hands Ahiru to her husband, and the same magnificence and wonder comes over him.

The tea kettle whistles, interrupting the reverie.

* * *

Fakir is strangely nervous as he opens the box, revealing dried Violet petals. His hands shake as he spoons the petals into the pot and spills water outside of the teapot as he pours.

Silence is not uncommon for Fakir, but the air around him seems to crackle with nervousness as he waits for the tea to steep. Ahiru squirms slightly, prompting the man to release her gently onto the tablecloth. She places a wing on Fakir's hand; troubled.

* * *

"A-as we drink the tea, I t-though it would be enjoy-a-able if I read my latest m-manuscript."

Fakir's hands are cold and clammy and wouldn't stop trembling. He attempts to clear his throat, but he devolves into a sputtering cough as he chokes on his own saliva. The woman hurriedly hands him a cup of tea, then pours everyone else a portion.

He takes a deep breath.

" _Once upon a time,_

 _There was a man who loved a duck. This duck was a brave, fearless, beautiful duck who was a hero._

 _But the duck had a curse. She was cursed into the form of a human by a wicked man. Many people were troubled because of this form. And so, although her humanity made her happy, she cast it aside with the help of the man."_

Recognition dawns on Ahiru's face.

" _But although she understood the importance of the sacrifice, she was unhappy, and the man was unhappy because she was unhappy._

 _Although there were indeed people who were troubled with her humanity, the two of them came to realize many more people who were troubled with the loss of it. So the man became stricken with guilt, for he realized that her humanity was not a curse, but a blessing._

 _The man mourned, aware of his mistake but unable to mend it._

 _In his grief, he fell onto his knees and cursed himself out of remorse and heartache._

Ahiru caresses his hand with her wing, her eyes glistening. Her form wasn't his fault. It never was.

" _As the winter progressed, the man was able to see luminescent lights shining where he had mourned._

 _When he investigated, softly glowing violets had bloomed through the snow where his tears had fallen. When plucked, their radiance died, but their power remained._

 _The man plucked the violets, dried them, and placed in a tea to serve to the three people most troubled by her loss."_

With a sudden flash of light, the little duck Ahiru was no longer present, but instead a human girl.

The woman's cup clattered to the ground as recognition bloomed in her mind. "I have a daughter…!"

Her father blatantly abandons his teacup and any form of clear speach in order to lurch forward and catch Ahiru in an embrace while blubbering inelegantly, the woman following suit instantaneously afterward.

They embrace, sobbing and crying out as precious memories flood in. Somewhere in Kinkan, two girls drop their books as memories are rekindled, and a chef nearly slices her hands in surprise.

Fakir grins brightly.

" _and as they drink, all shall remember her and she shall become human again, clothed in a dress adorned with violets…"_

* * *

Fakir turns away, pretending to admire the lake's shoreline in an effort to give Ahiru and her family some privacy. They wouldn't want his intrusion anyway, he's the one who caused this mess-

He felt Ahiru's hand on his shoulder, grasping and dragging him into her family's embrace.

She whispers into his ear, the happiness of her tone and her breath on his neck sending chills down his spine. "Thank you, Fakir."

Her next tone then tranforms the whisper into a hiss from concern and anger, "And don't you dare, don't you _dare_ _ **ever**_ blame yourself for me being turned into a duck. That was Drosselmeyer, you were used just like everybody else. You helped me become my true self. For _real_ this time."

Ahiru kisses Fakir on the cheek, her cheeks like apples.

Beaming, she turned to her parents. "Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend."

Fakir sputters in surprise, his face flushing.

Ahiru eyeballs him pointedly. "We said we love each other, right?"

Fakir nods.

"No matter what?"

Fakir nods.

"Then, will you be my boyfriend?"

Fakir smirks and kisses her. She wraps her arms around his neck and returns the kiss while he digs his hands into her hair.

Ahiru's father clears his throat, causing the two of them to pull apart with chagrin.

Her father's eyes glimmered with an unbridled joy. "Welcome to the family."

* * *

 **Phew~ I wasn't sure how this was going to go, since this is my first time writing romance. I hope you enjoyed it! ~ Dandelionfunky**


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